Insomnia
by LiteratiAngel
Summary: I never understood how eyes were the windows to the soul until I first sank and drowned in his russet pools. A crooked smile gleams in the weak silver light and my waking dream dissolves. AU Lit set after A House Is Not A Home Season 5 . Reviews are love


**Insomnia**

**Disclaimer: Ha! I wish!**

**Disclaimer Take Two: I don't own Romeo and Juliet...the title belongs to William Shakespeare, the song belongs to Dire Straits.**

**A/N: The title of this might make you think that it's more Lorelai/Jason than Jess/Rory but do not be fooled by a mere title! This is just a strange little fic idea that I came up with after watching a couple of GG re-runs today so I decided to jot it down.**

**A/N Take Two: The writing in this is slightly different to the rest of my stuff because I usually try to stick rigidly to the characters but I let this one slip slightly into the realms of surreal. Hope you all enjoy it...remember people...reviews equal love!  
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_You said "I love you like the stars above, I'll love you 'til I die" and there's a place for us, you know the movie song…when are you gonna realise, it was just that the timing was wrong?_

_**Romeo and Juliet-Dire Straits**_

~*~

The sheets smother me, tousled between my limbs. A sheen of sweat glistens on my forehead, I can feel its clammy caress. Coffee will do nothing for me now; it will only succeed in compounding my fate.

The moonlight peters through my window, illuminating the empty space beside me. I disentangle myself from the cotton and wander over to my bookcase. On these aged wooden shelves, a sea of volumes resides. A veritable army of literature.

I stand back and admire my manuscript inventory: Proust, Plato, Machiavelli, Tolstoy, Austen, Kerouac, Chaucer, Ginsberg, Burroughs and more. Each of the tomes lovingly hugging the next, their butter-soft pages yellowing with age.

Books are my friends, they help me through each long drawn-out night, when the stars themselves seem to jeer at me for my weakness, for my disadvantage of seeing them at their peak.

Each character is surreal to the point of disbelief and yet I prefer them to the characters that adorn my own life, those who are slightly less eccentric, but supremely real. Those whom I disillusion on a regular basis.

A lifetime spent drowning in tequila shots would not even begin to wipe away my recent failings from my memory.

A vision of blonde hair and hazel eyes floats in front of my azure ones. Some would refer to him as my "one-that-got-away" but I have another in mind that swipes that crown.

The vision-hallucination, call it what you will-swims before me and distorts into an even more perfect vision. The blonde hair lengthens and darkens-those crazy curls that I spent many happy hours twisting my fingers into-and the eyes become a flawless chocolate brown, inviting me into their unexplored depths. I never understood how eyes were the windows to the soul until I first sank and drowned in his russet pools. A crooked smile gleams in the weak silver light and my waking dream dissolves.

My knees hit the cold floorboards as my legs collapse in frustration. Hot, salty tears escape from beneath my eyelids and I silently curse my inability to keep that wound closed.

A sudden repetitive rhythm against the door shakes me out of my stupor so I pick myself up and collect my senses. For a second, I dare to hope but I push it away, too aware that to hope is to destroy yourself.

The wood peels away from the door-frame, almost in slow motion. I have to double-take the figure stood in the hallway. Mussed dark curls, chocolate brown eyes and, spreading across his perfect face, that beautiful crooked smirk that makes my heart speed with adrenaline every time I picture it.

_You called…_As if it was the most normal occurrence.

_I…I…_I choke on my speech.

_Why'd you call?_ Worry colours his voice and my heart leaps at the thought that he might still care.

_I…I…_Words fail me yet again, coherent sentences flying through the open door.

_I'm glad you called…_That stolen conversation feels like a lifetime ago.

_Y…Yeah? _I finally find my voice.

_Yeah._ As if he's told me every day of my life. The same old pattern, so easy to fall back into.

It all feels so right, so easy, so normal. His lips meet mine and we melt into each others' familiar touch, finding our rhythm as if there hasn't been years between our meetings. As if we're seventeen again and in love for the first time.

~*~

The sunlight glitters through my windows, illuminating the solid figure beside me. It was the best night's sleep that I've had in a long time.

The stars fail to taunt me now, hidden behind rays of brilliant light. Forget sleeping pills, I've found my own insomnia cure.


End file.
